The Chase
by xtrememusiclover
Summary: It's just a typical week in the BAU, until they are invited to work on a case involving the death of older women and their conditions. When this case gets beyond personal for Spencer Reid, will it make him or break him? Will he lose yet another loved one right before his eyes?
1. The Chase

It was just a normal day at the BAU.

Morgan was at his desk, sighing as he worked on the incomplete piles of paperwork towering his desk.

Prentiss was sitting on the brown couch in Hotch's office, clearly in deep conversation as she stared intently in front of her with her legs crossed.

JJ was at her desk, balancing the weight of her head on her left hand as she held her phone against her ear with her right, clearly not interested, but still focused with whoever was on the other end of the line.

Reid was in the kitchenette, fixing himself his regular cup of coffee before situating himself at his desk and pulling out a thick-paged novel he would surely finish within 30 minutes.

Rossi was in his office, hunched over his desk as he scribbled little, but detailed notes about his recent cases into his small black notepad.

Garcia was in her usual cubical, aimlessly waving her fluffy pink pen in her hand as she read and revised old case information and finalized it.

"We've got a case," JJ yelled, projecting her voice loud enough, so the team could hear.

͠

"Now that everyone's here, let's begin." Hotch said, speaking in his low monotone as usual.

"Yes, Sir!" Garcia replied, gracefully hopping up from her seat and grabbing the grey remote to the projector.

"This is Venae Turner," Garcia announced as the picture of the first victim quickly popped on the screen.

"She's fifty-one years old and currently spends her days at the Brewington Folks Home in Brunswick, Maryland. Her body was found a week ago in front of a local antique store."

Another image was shown.

It was an old building, about one hundred years old and had three stories. It was painted green, but looked faded from time. There weren't many windows. It looked as if someone had them removed at one point. There was an old styled, black and white fringed canopy covering the entrance. Surrounding the building were neighboring businesses such as small town restaurants and convenient stores.

Garcia stared at the image and smiled, "As much as I hate crime scenes, or any crime-related things in general, I just love the looks of this place… It's so cute!"

The team exchanged a few awkward glances, but then laughed. If anyone could shine light on a depressing situation, it was Penelope Garcia.

"Anyway," Garcia began again, drawing their attention back to the case,"Our second victim is Gail McClellan. She's a fifty-six years old school teacher at Colonial Ridge Elementary, which is also in Brunswick, Maryland. Her body was found several days later at a nearby church."

"Near…?" Morgan interjected, making sure he didn't miss out any important details.

"Near, as in exactly seven miles from the first dump site, Sugar." Garcia winked and grinned foolishly.

Looking at the images of the Antique Store and Church, JJ felt a sad feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. On the weekends, JJ and Will liked to go shopping for antiques and old knickknacks in stores much like the one she was forced to look at now as a crime scene.

"Were there any ligature marks on the victims?" Reid asked, snapping JJ back to reality.

"No, but they do have puncture wounds in their neck suggesting they were most likely died of an overdose. The Coroner's report also mentions that both victims had traces of Chloroform in their systems." Garcia stated, slightly more intrigued by the use of this kind of old-school method.

The team looked slightly more intrigued as well.

"So, this guy kidnaps women in their fifties, knocks them out with Chloroform, takes them to wherever he's hiding out, kills them with a drug overdose, and then dumps them at locations such as antique stores and churches? Is it just me, or does this unsub seem to have a grudge against older people and their time?" Rossi stated with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

It's not very settling to know that you could possibly qualify as a future victim in a case.

"Maybe he's trying to make a statement?" Prentiss said, trying to think outside the box.

"Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announced as he got up and left the team to their theories.


	2. The Reid Joke

"This town doesn't look like the type of place to have a serial killer wandering the streets." Morgan said, opening the door of the black SUV and hopping out.

"Statistically speaking," Reid interjected, challenging Morgan's opinion,

"In the United States, about 6 percent, or 1 in 17, people ages 15 to 44, suffer from a mental illness, which means about each state's population is made up of 0.11764706-"

"Okay Reid, I get it!" Morgan interrupted, warning him that he was pushing it.

Fortunately, Reid got the hint and simply replied with, "sorry."

Morgan and Reid walked in silence as they headed towards the antique store. Ducking under the Police tape, they walked the perimeter of the land, seeing if anything was out-of-place or unusual.

Nothing.

They walked around to the front of the building and went inside.

"Agents Reid and Morgan?" Asked a tall, built man in a sheriff's uniform.

"Yes?" Morgan answered for them both.

"I'm Tim Blakeson, one of the local Brunswick Sheriffs," He said, introducing himself, "I was sent by the Maryland Police Department to assist you in your case. If you have any questions about the area or anything else, don't hesitate to ask." He concluded.

He held out his hand and Morgan shook it firmly, while Reid took a step back and waved. Morgan turned his head and looked towards the stairs.

"Has anything been moved since they found the body?" He asked.

Blakeson looked down at his jacket pocket and pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open, scanning the pages, quickly, and replied, "Nope. We were specifically told by one of your agents to leave everything as is. I believe her name was Jennifer Jareau."

Morgan figured as much and nodded, approvingly, as he headed up the old, wooden stairs, which creaked with every footstep.

"Sounds like you need to lose some weight," Reid joked as he followed Morgan up to the second floor.

Morgan stopped, mid-climb, and turned to face him.

"Pretty Boy, did you just make a joke that didn't involve that bulbous brain of yours?!" Morgan laughed, clearly shocked.

Reid broke eye contact with him and stared at his converse.

"I guess I did." He, too, was shocked by his outburst.

Maybe he was finally on the road to being normal.

They continued upstairs, where they entered a bedroom. It most likely belonged to Venae. Morgan walked over to the bed that was located in the corner of the room, which was neatly made. He opened up the vintage drawer that was next to it.

Empty.

"Either our victim moved out at some point, or the unsub took all her personal belongings with him." Morgan observed, as he searched the rest of the room.

Reid went to investigate the bathroom. He looked inside all the drawers and cabinets. It wasn't until he looked in the medicine cabinet above the sink that he found something. He took one of the pill bottles from the cabinet shelf and turned it in his hands.

"Hey, Morgan," He yelled, summoning him, "I think I've got something."


	3. Mental Illness

"According to Venae Turner's medical records, Reid was correct. Yet again,"

Garcia joked, typing furiously as she spoke. "It says here that she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's back in November."

"That's not too long ago," Prentiss stated, pointing out the obvious.

Hotch walked over to the bulletin board and pulled down Gale McClellan's picture.

"Check to see if Gale McClellan was also diagnosed with some kind of mental illness."

"This is _way_ too easy," Garcia mumbled as medical records quickly covered her monitor.

"Sorry, Baby Girl," Morgan apologized. "This is all we've got so far."

"Not for long," Garcia said, changing the subject.

She cross-referenced Gale McClellan's medical records with reports only dating back to the last six months.

"Gale doesn't have any records on file that involve Alzheimer's, but she was apparently diagnosed with extreme Paranoia in December."

Garcia said, as she pushed her office chair away from her desk and spun around, petting a toy Chihuahua wearing a purple and blue sombrero in her lap.

"Thanks, Garcia," JJ concluded, ending the phone call.

The team took their seats at the round table they were borrowing from the Maryland Police Department during the investigation.

Prentiss took a sip of her drink she got during lunch.

"So our unsub is choosing his victims based on age and mental health?"

"It sure looks like it," JJ answered. "But why?"

Morgan sat back in his chair, calm and collected as usual.

"A mental illness could have caused him to lose a close friend or family member, which would damage him emotionally. Maybe he thinks he can bring back a loved one by killing anyone who has a mental illness, thereby destroying the disease once and for all." He thought aloud, moving his hands as he spoke.

Reid listened quietly as he kept his focus on the grey wall across the room.

Hotch folded his hands, scholarly, in front of him.

"Someone in the unsub's life may have hurt him emotionally, or physically at some point, and had a mental illness, so he stalks women with the same traits as the original person, kidnaps them, messes with them for a while, and then kills them. The person who wronged him was most likely a past girlfriend or wife." He finished, getting out of his seat and pacing the perimeter of the room.

Rossi pulled out his small notepad and opened to a fresh page.

"If our unsub is targeting victims, because they wronged him in the past, wouldn't he have to be around the same age of them?" Rossi asked, factious, as he clicked his pen open and started writing.

Prentiss pushed in her chair and headed over to the whiteboard installed in the wall behind them. She picked up a blue dry erase marker and started scribbling down their ideas.

**Unsub**

**Male**

**Late 40s to 50s**

**May be delusional**

**Hunting grounds:**

**-Brunswick, MD**

**Type:**

**-Women in their 50s or 60s**

**-Diagnosed with any type of Mental Illness**

**-Blonde hair**

Reid joined the team as they looked at Emily's notes. Unlike the rest of the team though, his focus wasn't on figuring out who the unsub was.

He was focused on the unsub's "Type."

_50s._

_Mental Illness._

_Blonde hair._

He slouched in his chair as he tapped his foot. Wanted to leave the room more than anything, he didn't want to draw any attention to himself, so he stayed put. He tried to manage the compulsive tapping of his foot, but it had a mind of its own. Just a few more minutes and he could finally leave. He had a bad feeling about this case that he'd been pushing away since day one.

He needed to be alone.

"Nice job, everyone,"

Hotch complimented on their work.

"It's late. Head back to the hotel and get some rest." He concluded, checking his watch.

Everyone got up from their seats and stretched as they said their goodbyes and headed towards the door.

Except for Reid.

He continued to stare down at the wooden table, too caught up in his own mind to notice what was happening around him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop his brain from haunting him with fears and worries he had towards this case.

Before Morgan exited the room, he looked back to make sure he didn't leave anything behind.

Apparently he did something behind.

His best friend.

He observed Reid for a minute, body fidgeting as his eyes moved from left to right, deep in thought. Morgan could obviously tell something was wrong.

He turned around, entering the room, and lightly shook Reid's shoulder.

Startled, Reid jumped out of his seat, trying to play it off as he went to sit back down, only to miss his chair completely as he awkwardly fell to the floor.

Morgan pressed his lips into a straight line as he tried to force back his laughter. Quickly regaining himself, he held out his hand to help his friend off the floor.

Reid denied the gesture and quickly made his way to the exit, head down.

"Reid. Wait." Morgan raised his voice, feeling ashamed that he felt the urge to laugh when his friend was clearly upset.

Reid forcefully pushed the door open, not looking back at his colleague as the door shut loudly behind him.


	4. Devolving

Hotch stood, shoulders back, facing the team. "I think we're ready to give the-"

"Excuse me, Agent Hotchner?" A deputy interrupted, making his way across the room.

Hotch could hear the urgency in the young man's voice. Whatever he was about to tell them, it wasn't good. The officer took a moment to catch his breath. He looked like he had ran halfway across the Police Station to find him. He put his hands in his jacket.

"We found another body."

The air became dense as the news slowly made its way around the office. Morgan jumped up from his seat and grabbed his coat.

"Reid and I will go to the crime scene. We'll take the car out back, just send us the coordinates and we'll be on our way-" Morgan rambled. The officer put out his hand to stop him. Morgan stopped and stared at him intensely.

"You can't drive there," He answered Morgan's stare.

"What? Why not?" He questioned, derivatively.

This caught everyone's attention as they all started to listen closely to the conversation.

"The body was found in Williston." He concluded, handing Morgan the case file. Hotch stepped towards them.

"As in Williston, North Dakota?"

"Apparently." Morgan said, looking up from the case file. Morgan closed the file and threw it towards Reid.

"You can read 20,000 words per minute. Read this and tell us what it says."

Reid looked like he was having a spasm as he frantically moved his arms to catch the folder. He skimmed the pages, taking less than 3 minutes to finish. The officers that surrounded him were clearly awed as they stood, motionless, staring down at the case file in his hands and then up at him. Reid saw the expressions forming around the room and started to summarize the case information, staring at his sweater, avoiding eye contact.

"The unsub has drastically changed his MO with this last victim by not only killing and dumping the body in Williston, North Dakota, but by killing a man with black hair who was, for the most part, mentally stable. If it weren't for the same traces of Chloroform and drug overdose, we may have never connected this victim with the case."

He stated, informatively and left the team to their thoughts as he went to find a vacant room. Finding that all the offices were currently occupied, he picked the lock of a nearby Janitor's closet, looking to make sure no one was watching, and went inside. Locking the door behind him, he sat against the corner wall, relieved to finally have a quiet place to organize his thoughts.

He realized this situation reminded him a lot of his years back in High School.

He drew his knees into his chest as he contemplated the traits of the most recent victim.

_Male. _

_Mentally Stable. _

_Black Hair. _

Nothing like the other victims.

The unsub might be devolving, which would be good for Spencer, but bad for the rest of the team. If he was devolving, that meant he would start killing his victims at random, saving a lot more time.

He felt the worry that had been weighing him down finally vanish as he stood up and unlocked the closet door.

Cracking the door open as little as possible, he peeked into the hallway. Seeing no one coming, he slowly, but steadily snuck out and headed towards the bullpen.

"Reid…?"

Reid turned around, mortified, and saw the one and only, Derek Morgan.

_I'm screwed_. He thought to himself as Morgan came closer.

Morgan took a minute to assess the situation. He looked Reid up and down before finally speaking.

"Were you just in a supply closet?" He asked, starting with the obvious.

Reid put his hands in the pockets of his corduroy pants.

"…Uh…?"

He stuttered, all thought process drawing to a blank. He decided to make up a lie as he went.

"Yes I was," He started, feeling Morgan's intense stare melting his guilty conscience.

"I…um…accidentally spilled my coffee while I was...uh...doing some paperwork a few minutes ago, so I came here, not wanting to disturb anyone, and borrowed some cleaning supplies." He finished, trying his best not to look guilty.

It was hard for Reid to lie in general, never mind lying to a profiler. Morgan considered his story and looked down at Reid's hands, which were still in his pockets.

"So where are the cleaning supplies?"

_Damn it_.

"Uh…they're over there." Reid pointed, behind Morgan.

Morgan turned around, foolishly taking his eyes off Reid.

"What?" He exclaimed in confusion, turning back around only to find an empty hallway lay ahead.

Whatever Reid was hiding, wasn't going to stay hidden for long.

He slowly made his way back to the Bullpen, searching for Reid as he accidentally ran into JJ, who had been looking for him. Catching him up on all the recent case discoveries, they sat down and joined the rest of the team at the round table.


	5. Feelings

**A/N: Hey there! First of all, Thanks to all of you fabulous readers that haven't quit reading yet! XD **

**Love you guys! 3**

**Second, there _will _be drama, i'm just really slow at creating climax!**

**Lastly, this chapter is kind of just a short chapter, since I've been writing a lot of long ones, and it's kind of just a conversation between Morgan and Reid to settle some issues. Not very story-like... Sorry! **

**Stay amazing!**

**-Sammie :)**

"That's all for now," Hotch reassured the team as they were on the jet, headed to North Dakota.

"Everyone should get some rest. If our unsub is devolving, he could attack at any time." He said, dismissively and leaned back into his seat, closing his eyes.

Silence filled the aircraft as they glided through an endless sea of fluffy, white clouds.

Spencer sat at the back of the jet, coffee in hand, and looked out the window. If Morgan was going to talk to Reid, now was the perfect opportunity. He got up from his chair and walked over to the kitchenette. He found a bag of popcorn in one of the cabinets and put it in the microwave. He watched the timer carefully, making sure he took out the popcorn before the timer rang, so he wouldn't disturb anyone. He thought Reid might be more willing to talk if he knew no one else was listening. He grabbed a napkin and made his way towards Reid. He sat down in the chair across from him and held out the bag.

"Want some?" He asked.

Reid took a second to acknowledge his presence. For a moment, he almost took a handful of popcorn, but raised his hand up to decline, turning his head towards the window, again. Morgan pushed the bag to the side and leaned forward.

"Reid." He said in all seriousness.

Reid continued to stare, but then turned to face him. As the light hit Spencer's face, Morgan could see the tired look in his eyes. He couldn't even imagine what Reid did all night with a genius brain like his. Reid stared at his mug, realizing it was empty, and started to get up.

"Wait."

"What." Reid snapped. Morgan knew Reid got easily agitated when he was sleep-deprived, but never like this.

Morgan took the mug from Reid's hands and sat it beside him on the chair.

"You can have it back after you tell me what's going on."

"Why does everyone always think there's something going on?!" He yelled in a hush voice and slammed himself back against his seat.

"Reid, calm down! All I want to do is talk!" Morgan said, suddenly feeling offended by how he was being treated.

Reid messed around with a hair-tie on his wrist.

"Talk about what? Talk about how I fell on the floor, making a total fool of myself? Or how you caught me sneaking out of a Supply closet like a complete loser?" He questioned, a saddened tone settling in his voice.

Morgan reached across the table and patted him on the arm.

"You've got to stop beating yourself up about everything," Morgan pointed out.

"Sure, it's a little weird seeing a Federal agent trying to sneak out of a Supply closet, but no one's judging you, Reid. We all have our flaws."

Spencer didn't seem convinced.

"So, you're not even going to ask why I was in there to begin with?"

Morgan gave Reid a genuine smile.

"Not unless you're willing to tell me."

He thought about it for a second and then changed the subject.

"Ever since we started this case, something's felt wrong to me," He began.

"Are you getting migraines, again?" Morgan sat up, concerned.

"No, not that kind of feeling," He brushed his fingers through his long, wavy hair.

"I honestly don't know what it is, Morgan. I just want this case to be over with."

Morgan could relate to this "unknown" feeling he was having.

"From personal experience, I think your self-conscience is trying to tell you something," He stated.

"You're just going to have to wait, though, to find out what it is."

Reid smiled. Even though their conversation wasn't very eventful, he still felt comforted. He felt bad for treating his friend so unfairly.

"Sorry." He apologized, ashamed.

"It's okay, but just remember that you can always talk to me. About anything." Morgan got up from his seat.

"Thanks...for everything."

"Anytime, Pretty Boy." He said, with all honesty as he returned Reid's coffee mug and walked away, a smile spread across his face.


	6. Evolving

Reid sat on a bench outside the North Dakota Police Station as he took a final scan through the recent case file, making sure he didn't overlook any important details. But he couldn't have. He's Spencer Reid. There was nothing else to do while he waited, though, so he kept reading.

_Lloyd Finnow._

He continued to stare at the victim's name. A shiver went down his back. This name sounded familiar to him.

Why?

Just then, the beautiful, yet badass, Jennifer Jareau walked into view. Her black high heels clicked rhythmically with each step as she walked up the sidewalk towards Reid. When she got to the bench, she smiled brightly and took a seat.

"What's up," She asked.

"You look lonely out here all by yourself."

Spencer nodded. It wasn't the first time he's heard that before.

"I was just waiting for you guys to get here. I didn't want to walk in and introduce myself alone."

JJ looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"You do remember you're a part of the FBI, right? You're not some random stranger walking into a police station to work on a case."

Reid broke eye contact and stared at the wooden planks beneath him.

"Still…" He said, shrugging.

JJ stood up, brushing off her fitted skirt. She held out her hand.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm here," She announced.

She grinned, widely.

"Let's go catch us a killer."

Reid took JJ's hand as they walked, ready and determined, into the one and only, North Dakota Police Department.

...

"Guys," Morgan said, abruptly as the rest of his colleagues were facing the opposite direction, towards Emily, who was sharing one of her interesting story about her days working at Interpol.

"…And that's when a huge crane swooped down and-"

Emily stopped mid-sentence, turning her attention to Morgan. The rest of the team did the same.

Morgan stood tall, the sleeves of his shirt rising just enough to show a hint of the tattoo on his left arm.

"I think we have the wrong idea about our unsub."

Hotch stared at Morgan intensely, wanting more information.

"Why do you say that?"

Morgan leaned on the conference table, the case file resting under his hand.

"The file says he killed Lloyd Finnow the same way he did the first two victims. But by picking to kill a victim like Finnow, he risked changing his MO completely, which we automatically assumed was because he was devolving,"

"And…" JJ trailed on, not knowing what point he was trying to make.

He looked over at Reid for a second and then back at JJ.

"I don't think he's devolving," Morgan stated.

The team was clearly confused.

"He's _evolving_."

Rossi tilted his head slightly and walked over to Morgan.

"You think he's evolving?"

Morgan paced back and forth, explaining his logic.

"Think about it. He killed his first two victims in the same town, only days apart. It took less time for him to kill them, because they were easy targets, considering they both had a mental illness. But for his next victim, Lloyd Finnow, he flew halfway across the U.S. just to kill him. It was obviously personal. He also took longer to kill him, unlike the first two victims. He wanting Finnow to suffer. Most likely for revenge. This unsub is clearly doing whatever it takes to get to his next victims. This is far from being over. He's just beginning."

Morgan took a deep breath as he waited for the team's reaction.

Prentiss was the first to speak. She was certainly impressed with Morgan's theory.

"…I think he may actually be correct, Hotch."

Morgan raised his eyebrows.

"_Actually_?" He remarked, a pessimistic tone in his voice. Prentiss ignored his commentary as she waited for Hotch's reply.

Hotch looked at the center of the conference table they were standing around. A wired phone and speaker set were hooked up in the center, waiting to be put to use.

"Let's call Garcia."


	7. UNLV

**A/N: Hello there my fellow Criminals ;)**

**Before you read this chapter, prepare yourself. It's definitely the longest chapter I've written so far! 992 words!**

**The drama is finally starting though, so I think it's worth the read! :D**

**Thanks again for over 1,300 views and 16 story followers! :)**

**I'm literally beyond thrilled! I'm so thrilled, I wrote this chapter 2am!**

**Happy Reiding! :)**

**-Sammie**

* * *

"Hello, My sweets," Garcia greeted the team from her fabulous cubicle in Quantico, Virginia.

"Garcia," Hotch said, getting straight to business.

"Did our latest victim, Lloyd Finnow, have any records we should know about?"

Garcia put down her bright, yellow mug and let her fingers dance along the computer keyboard.

"Hm...Lets see here..." She spoke, letting her words trail off as she dug up medical records, school report cards, driver license, and anything else that would lead them one step closer to their mystery killer.

"You know how I hate to disappoint, my lovelies, but his records are squeaky clean."

Prentiss walked over to the telephone. She had hoped that Garcia had found a prison record, so they could see if the unsub had been a former inmate.

"There's nothing peculiar about this guy, Garcia? Nothing at all?" Prentiss asked, desperate for information.

Garcia scanned the screen again.

"It says here that his mother died of breast cancer back in '08, but other than that there's zilch."

Prentiss walked to the back of the room to take notes, while Morgan took her place next to the phone.

"Hey, Baby Girl," Morgan said, flirtation as usual.

Garcia bit her lip and leaned forward on her desk.

"Well, Hello there my Chocolate Thunder," She replied, always in love with the dreamy voice of Derek Morgan.

"Can you tell us what happened to Finnow after his mom died?"

Garcia began to type again. The team could hear the melody of keyboard clicks from over the phone.

A navy blue box popped onto Garcia's screen.

"Apparently he began to write poetry...not the most common way to mourn, but it's better than nothing, right?" She asked, hoping she was correct.

"Yeah, that's definitely better than nothing. Thanks, PG." Morgan ended and left the room to get some air.

Reid sat in one of the conference chairs, reading a book. For some reason, he always found it easier to concentrate when he wasn't trying to. Not really in the mood to engage in any kind of conversation, he leaned his chair back, relaxing, and let JJ talk to Garcia next.

"Hey, Garcia," She said, smiling.

"My blonde sister from another mister!" Garcia exclaimed, a grin spreading widely across her face.

JJ laughed, even though they were in a serious situation. She just couldn't help herself when it came to Garcia.

"Where did Lloyd Finnow work before he died?"

"He worked at home. He was an author."

JJ contemplated this new bit of information for a moment before asking any further questions.

"Can you pull up the most recent occupations for our first two victims, also?"

Garcia raised a hand to her forehead and did a military salute to her computer screen.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

She quickly, but efficiently opened two different search engine tabs, searching the names of their first victims. Venae Turner and Gail McClellan.

"Get ready for a coincidence in 3...2...1..." Garcia childishly counted off as she compared all three of the victims' occupations side-by-side on her screen.

"What is it?" Hotch interrupted.

"We already knew that Gail McClellan was an Elementary school teacher, but her whole life basically revolved around English Literature," She stated, looking through Venae's file,

"She was a poet."

JJ flicked her eyebrows.

"I guess we've found our point of interest," JJ noted, hopeful they could find enough information to save the next targets before the unsub got to them.

Rossi soon joined them. He always loved finding new case information, and literature.

"We should cross reference our three victims with anything involving literature."

Rossi interjected, no greeting needed.

"On it, Ross Boss!" Garcia chimed, happily.

As soon as Garcia typed the word, "Literature" in the search engine, she got a hit.

"Damn... We're good." Garcia awed.

"Did you find anything helpful, Garcia?" Rossi asked, a bit nervous.

"You betcha! We only had one hit and it's a good one," She answered.

"Apparently they all worked together as Literature Professors in the same college."

The team was shocked, yet excited about the luck they were having with connecting these victims. It's not everyday you connect three random victims with information so specific.

JJ looked behind her at the rest of her team-mates and then back at the black diamond-shaped speaker in front of her. There was only one more question she could think of that still remained unanswered.

"What college did they work at, Garcia?" She asked, intrigued, along with the rest of the team.

Garcia scrolled down the screen and clicked her mouse.

"The University of Nevada, Las Vegas."

_Boom_.

Reid's book dropped from his hands and fell on the concrete floor. Pages flew disarray in the air due to the age of the old novel. Everyone went silent as they all turned in sync to face Reid. He remained in his seat. Pale. Still. Silent. He didn't even seem to notice the book that was laying, destroyed on the floor in front of him. JJ and Morgan went over to help him. Spencer looked so ill and scared they didn't exactly know what was going to happen next. They decided to take him by the arms and help him to his feet. Reid, who was in his own world, came back to reality when he felt the warm hands of JJ and Morgan touching his cold skin. He didn't know what he was feeling, but he was sure that he was not in the mood for people or talking. He forcefully pushed himself away from Morgan and JJ, who lost their balance from the sudden wave of anger that filled Reid's body.

Hotch didn't know what was happening. Neither did anyone else.

"Reid, What the hell?!" Hotch shouted as Spencer walked viciously out the doors, leaving the team with nothing but a cold shoulder.


	8. 1990

**A/N: Hello, again! (Are you getting tired of me yet?)**

**This chapter's pretty short (292 words) to make up for last chapter's longness. Also, because I typed this chapter on my Ipad and for some reason, auto-correct keeps trying to change every word I type with something completely different! :P**

**Anyways, thank you again for reading! This story's almost hit 2,000 views!**

**Love y'all! :D**

**-Sammie**

**P.S. "UNLV" stands for University of Nevada, Las Vegas.**

* * *

Garcia was in her office, watching cute animals videos online when she heard the phone ring. She put on her earpiece and answered the call.

"Hello?" She slowly answered, wondering why the team would call her again after just hanging up.

"G-Garcia," Reid said shakily as he locked the bathroom door behind him.

"Reid? Are you okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," He lied, not in the mood to chat. As rude as it sounded, he was only calling Garcia to get information.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"You betcha, G-Man!" She replied happily, a smile on her face.

"Can you pull up the names of all the Literature Professors working at UNLV in 1990?"

Reid nervously picked at his cuticles, afraid to hear the answer to his question. He leaned against the bathroom door, letting his legs slowly slide out from under him until he was sitting on the floor.

"I'm on it!"

Garcia was a little disappointed when she had to close out of her animal videos, but she was soon back to business as she started digging through UNLV employee files dating back to 1990. Luckily, there weren't many professors working at UNLV at the time due to drastic budget cuts that year.

"Including our victims, there were 7 Literature Professors working at UNLV in 1990," She informed Reid, who was patiently waiting on the other end of the phone.

"What were their names?" Reid asked, slowly losing hope.

"There was Lloyd Finnow, Gail McClellan, Venae Turner, Beatrice Clark, Jeffrey Dallas, Hunter Prescott, and D-"

The line went silent.

"Oh my..." Was all Garcia could manage to say.

"Garcia?"

She took a deep breath, regaining her composure.

"The last name is Diana Reid."


	9. Weakness

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Morgan reached for his phone and looked at the caller ID, immediately answering it.

"Hey, PG-"

"There's no time for greetings, Sugar," Garcia rambled quickly.

"I just got off the phone with Reid."

"Reid? Is he alright?" Morgan asked, nervously, and looked around the room.

Garcia tapped her nails anxiously against her desk.

"Yes…no…" She stumbled on her words, not sure how to respond.

"Ugh, just put me on speaker!"

Morgan held the phone away from his ear.

"Inside voices, Garcia."

He put the phone on the conference table, drawing the team's attention, and turned on the speaker.

"Okay, you're on," Morgan concluded.

"Hello there, my pretties," Garcia quickly greeted the team.

"So, I just finished talking to Reid. He asked me to do him a favor, which was looking up the names of all the Literature Professors working at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas in 1990-"

"Why 1990?" JJ interrupted.

"Shhh, Blondie, you'll find out in a minute!" Garcia hissed.

JJ made a face as Garcia continued her informational rant.

"Anyways, I did my research and found seven names. If you exclude our victims, there's only four."

"What are their names?" Rossi asked, mid-yawn. It was two o'clock in the morning and the team was tired.

"Beatrice Clark, Jeffrey Dallas, Hunter Prescott, and Diana Reid."

The team sat, letting silence coat the thick air.

"What does this mean?" Prentiss worryingly asked Garcia.

Garcia took a deep breath and tightly held the closet stuffed animal she could find.

"It means, If this is our unsub's hit list, we're most likely looking at his next victims."

…

Reid hovered over the sink, leaning on his elbows as he slid his hands down his face. Even though he had a watch on, he checked the clock above his head.

Two-thirty.

No wonder he felt exhausted. He officially hadn't slept in three days. Lowering his eyes from the clock, he involuntarily caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Not knowing why, he felt a moment of deja-vu.

Then it hit him.

The need.

Not the need for comfort or attention.

The need for release.

The need for Dilaudid.

He continued to stare at his reflection as he thought back to the small container of Dilaudid still hidden away behind his bookshelf at home. He didn't keep it, because he was saving it. He kept it, because he was afraid. Afraid that even one distant glance at the container would trigger his addiction, again.

He violently slammed his fists down on the marble counter-top in front of him as shame quickly poisoned his mind. He paced the perimeter of the bathroom.

How could he be so weak?

At the moment, his mom wasn't even in any danger, yet he still found a way to overthink the situation, as usual, and scare himself.

He turned his head and looked at the door. The team was probably wondering where he was. It had been forty-five minutes since he stormed out of the conference room. He felt bad for what he did. He lashed out at them for something they had no control over. They should have fired him from the team already. He was a horrible friend, let alone person in general. He regained his composure and unlocked the bathroom door, leaving his worries behind him as he left.

When he made it back to the Conference room, he quietly opened the door, not wanting to disturb his fellow profilers and their thoughts.

Unfortunately, he was greeted with seven pairs of eyes staring him down, head to toe. He quickly bowed his head and shuffled towards his chair. At first, he thought he was being stared at with anger, but being a profiler, he soon realized they were all looking at him with a sense of sympathy. Garcia must have told them about their talk. He awkwardly stared at the table as Hotch walked up behind him.

"You don't have to worry," He whispered.

"We're going to end this son of a bitch once and for all."


	10. Good News

**A/N: Hola, Mi amigos! :)**

**This was suppose to be a long chapter with some rising action, sorta, but it ended up being _way_ too long, so here's a short little read for you guys instead :D (and yes, I know I use a lot of smileys, that's just how I roll!)**

**You all are the frickin' best and always will be!**

**-Sammie**

* * *

"I think I've got some good news," Morgan announced as he entered the Police Station.

"What is it?" Emily and JJ asked in sync. They both smiled at each other before turning their attention back to Morgan.

"Follow me," Morgan said as he made his way towards the kitchenette.

He took a few steps before stopping to look around the room. Emily and JJ stopped abruptly behind him.

"You too, Pretty boy!" He hollered in Reid's direction.

Reid spun around, clearly confused, but followed anyways.

When they made it to their destination, Morgan started to brew up a fresh pot of coffee and told the team to take a seat.

"What's this about?" Reid asked, anxiously.

He sat up straight in his chair to draw attention away from his aching limbs. He had jogged around the local park all night, afraid to sit still and let his mind take over what little peace he had left. His hair and clothes were disheveled from hurrying this morning. He was almost late for work when he ran out of his hotel room, realizing he missed the bus. He had to run three blocks to the nearest taxi to get a ride, arriving at work with a minute to spare.

Morgan looked him over, concerned, before he began talking.

"It's about your mom," He started as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down.

Reid's eyes widened with fear.

"Is she okay?"

Morgan smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"I said it was good news, remember?"

"Oh…Right," Reid sighed in relief. He could use some good news right about now.

Morgan took a sip of his coffee as the three team members stared at him, impatient.

"So, I was talking to Garcia on the car ride here, just a few minutes ago, and we both came upon the conclusion that Diana Reid is in the least amount of danger out of the other three suspects, because she worked separately from all the other Literature Professors at UNLV, meaning, she probably didn't make as much contact with the unsub then the rest of them did."

Prentiss gave Morgan a weird look.

"If they all worked as Literature Professors, how did Reid's mom work separately?"

"She worked with the mentally challenged, didn't she?" JJ stated, taking Morgan's thunder.

Morgan stared at her, surprised.

"How'd you know that? It wasn't even in her UNLV records!"

"Remember that one time she came to visit the FBI building?"

The group nodded.

"Well, we talked for a little while she was there and she told me all about her days working at the University and how she loved teaching literature to her students in unique ways only they could understand. She said she loved seeing their bright, happy faces and knowing she made a difference in their lives." JJ smiled as she looked back on the memory.

Reid felt an aching sadness linger in the pit of his stomach.

Emily and Morgan smiled in reply to JJ's story as they got up from their seats, pouring out the remaining coffee in their cups, and headed back to the bullpen to find the rest of the team.

JJ watched Emily and Morgan chat as they walked down the long hall and turned left, out of view. She turned her attention back at Reid, who was looking at the half empty coffee pot near the sink. JJ took Reid's hand, holding it in her own.

"Spence, your mother is going to be fine. There's nothing to worry about."

He turned his head to look at JJ, giving her a small, but genuine smile.

"Thanks."

They both got up and filled their mugs before meeting up with the rest of the team.

it was going to be a long day.


	11. Locations

The team walked into the bullpen, expressing a hint of curiosity as they met up with Hotch, Go-bags in hand.

"Good afternoon," He politely greeted his colleagues.

"Where are we going?" Rossi asked, provocatively, as he put his bag down on the floor next to him.

Hotch gave him a faint smile as he turned and walked towards a nearby office space.

"You're about to find out."

**…**

"Wait a second…" Morgan's words trailed off as he processed the new information in his mind.

"You want us to solve this case from three different states?" Prentiss finished Morgan's comment.

"I know it's something we've never done before," Hotch explained, looking at a map of the U.S. that hung on the empty office walls.

"But we have no choice. There's no telling which name on our unsub's list is his next target. We have to split up and find these people before he does."

He borrowed a black marker from the desk behind him and started circling locations.

"JJ and I will go to Fergus, Montana to find the Clark residence, Reid and Prentiss will go to Cheney, Kansas to find the Dallas residence, while Morgan and Rossi go to Walworth, South Dakota to find the Prescott residence," Hotch summarized as he pointed all around the map.

"All clear?"

Everyone looked at him blankly, expecting more information.

JJ walked over to the map, next to Hotch.

"What about Diana? She lives in Nevada." She questioned, as she repeatedly circled Las Vegas on the map with her index finger.

Hotch saw Reid staring at him from the corner of his eye. He turned around to meet his stare. He tried to profile his emotions, but Spencer looked the other direction before he could figure anything out.

"We already know where Ms. Reid resides, so I called the local police department and told them to double building security and enforce a 24/7 watch-program in the area."

The team looked skeptical, but they didn't protest.

Rossi raised an eyebrow at Hotch.

"How, exactly, are we going to travel to three different locations if we only have one jet?" He asked, hoping the answer was not by car. Driving would take up a lot of time they didn't have. It would be a nightmare, especially for Emily and Reid.

"Simple. One team takes the jet while the other two fly coach," He stated, matter-of-factly.

A series of groans filled the room. Dealing with terrorist cases all these years, the team had grown hesitant of public flying.

Hotch turned to Reid and Prentiss.

"Since you two have the longest distance to travel, you guys get the jet."

Emily smiled and high-fived Reid as they said their goodbyes and left for their trip.

"Minot International Airport, here we come!" Morgan yelled with fake enthusiasm, rolling his eyes.

"Wheels up in...uh…" Hotch announced, routinely, forgetting that they didn't have a planned flight time yet.

"C'mon, let's get this show on the road," Morgan said, covering up Hotch's failed commentary.

The team walked towards the parking lot while Morgan and Hotch stayed behind for a moment.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Boss man!" Morgan winked at Hotch before sprinting off to catch up with the rest of his team.

* * *

**A/N: Mwahaha, thought you could escape the author's note this chapter, didn't you? Well, you can't! ;D**

**Just wanted to say that for the next few chapters, It's going to be split up by teams, since they're in different states and everything. :)**

**The drama will start again soon, don't get bored on me just yet, haha!**

**...**

**As you probably noticed, I finally added Chapter Titles, so they look a little more interesting to read :)**

**Also, there's a poll on profile page, if you want to check that out!**

**You all are the absolute best! :D**

**-Sammie**


	12. Arrival

**A/N: Hiya!**

**Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I found this new show called Continuum on the SyFy channel and I'm hooked! The best part is that the main character is played by the actress who played Seaver in Criminal Minds! :D Coincidence? I THINK NOT.**

**Thanks for 3,700 views... You guys are Gube-tastic!**

**-Sammie**

* * *

"You may now take off your seat belts. Thank you for flying with-"

Morgan and Rossi quickly got out of their seats and grabbed their bags as they rushed out of the airplane. They weren't used to flying with more than seven people at a time, never mind one-hundred. They made their way through the terminal and into the airport. Not knowing their way around, they got lost several times. After thirty minutes of frustration they finally found the baggage claim. They ended up waiting another ten minutes looking for their bags, which did not seem to be there whenever they looked. On the way to the airport exit, they stopped by a small coffee shop and bought drinks along with two blueberry muffins. When they got outside, they were greeted by a black SUV waiting in front with their names on it. They got the keys from a metal box under the car, hopped in, sighed with relief, and took off.

They turned on the radio, flipping through all the local channels. They couldn't agree on one, so they decided to put on some good ol' country music and call it even. The music they played surprisingly fit the theme of their road trip as they passed endless acres of cows and crops. Morgan and Rossi liked the country view, but would never live here. They were city-boys.

After smelling the exotic aromas of cow-manure and skunk, they finally arrived at their destination, which turned out to be a farm. A big one, too.

They parked the car behind a few trees, out of view, and got out, coughing as the wind blew dirt into their face. They kept their guns holstered while they entered the property. As they walked up to the small farm-house at the end of the gravel driveway, they realized there weren't any cars in sight. Maybe they didn't own one. It was also strangely quiet. You would think with a farm there would be a lot of animal noises like chickens or cows. The only noise they heard was the crows screeching from the power lines above.

"Let's split up," Rossi suggested as they stealthily crawled through the wooden fence protecting the house.

Morgan nodded.

"I'll search the house and you search the barn out back?" He asked, making sure they were on the same page.

"Got it."

**...**

Morgan knocked on the front door, forcefully. Their time was running out. In a few hours their unsub was destined to strike again.

"Mr. Dallas?" He yelled, knocking once more.

No answer.

He tried again.

"I'm Special Agent Derek Morgan with the FBI, I just want to ask you a few questions."

Nothing.

One more time.

"Unless you feel like paying for a new door, I suggest you answer!"

After a minute of patient waiting he finally gave up.

_1...2...3!_

He mentally counted off to himself as he built up all his energy and kicked the front door open. It was a lot weaker than he had imagined. With all the force he used, he managed to rip off a part of the siding.

He pulled out his gun, holding it out in front of him as he began to search the living room and dining area.

Clear.

Stopping behind walls and peeking out, he slowly made his way around the kitchen and home office.

Clear.

He suspected no one was home as he jogged up the stairs. He carefully opened hallway closets as he walked into the master bedroom, ready.

Clear.

Examining the rooms, he realized the house was rather empty. As if someone only used it from time to time, like a vacation home. He also noticed that everything was perfectly organized and intact.

Suspicious.

He suddenly heard his name.

"Morgan!"

He ran down the stairs and out the door, almost tripping as he tried to avoid multiple ditches. When he made it to the barn he figured out why it had been so quiet.

There were no animals.

What good is a farm without any animals?

"Rossi!" He shouted in the dark. There were no windows.

"Up here!" Rossi replied from the second floor.

Turning on his flashlight, Morgan navigated his way through the empty barn and towards the stairs. Reaching the top he gawked at his surroundings. This wasn't a barn at all, it was a hideout.

Computer screens flashed everywhere, creating enough light to see. Morgan put away his flashlight and stood by Rossi.

"W-What is this?!" He asked, stunned.

"This," Rossi began.

"Is the best man-cave I've ever seen!" He laughed as he gestured towards the refrigerator at the opposite end of the room.

Morgan grinned. He loved working with people who had a good sense of humor. Especially Rossi.

"I hate to rain on your parade, but we've got some investigating to do," Morgan announced, getting back to business.

Rossi stuck his tongue out and sat down in front of the computer screens. He turned on the monitors and started going through recent History links.

Out of nowhere, confidential records from their past victims and future targets popped on all the screens.

"What the hell?" Morgan exclaimed, looking slowly at all the information.

Rossi continued to read the records as Morgan got out his phone and called Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch," He stopped as he finally understood the meaning behind the overly organized house and secret barn.

"We know who the unsub is."


	13. Fergus, Montana

"Coffee?" JJ asked as they walked through the crowds of people waiting for their flights.

Hotch rubbed his eyes, tiredly, in response.

JJ smiled and walked off, leaving Hotch by himself in an airport he'd never been to before.

After aimlessly walking around for a minute, he found a vacant bench near one of the large airport windows. He sat down and waited for JJ.

Staring out the window, his mind was suddenly lost in thought as he watched the planes, one-by-one, glide down the runway. He yawned, exhausted not only from the restless nights he worked in his office, doing paperwork, but from the relentless crying of the baby that had been on their flight.

Relaxing his stiff muscles, he listened to the murmuring of voices around him. Feeling a weird sense of peace and serenity, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

**...**

Hotch felt someone softly shaking his shoulders.

"Hotch..." JJ said, persistently, trying to wake him up.

"W-What?" He said, disoriented, as he realized they were still in the airport.

"You really need to get more sleep," She stated, handing him a coffee.

"I leave for one minute and you're fast asleep on a hard, metal airport bench!" She laughed.

Hotch blushed, clearly embarrassed.

"We don't have much time, let's find the car," He said, changing the subject.

They walked outside, bags heavy on their shoulders as they quickly spotting the black SUV parked in the back of the lot. They jogged until they reached the car, found the keys, and got in.

**...**

**"**Morgan and Rossi said they figured out who the unsub is, right?" JJ asked as they drove past a herd of elk, frolicking in a field next to them.

"Yep."

"Then why are we still going to Beatrice Clark's house?"

Hotch looked over at her with an empty expression.

"Because he's already on his way to find his next victim. When Morgan and Rossi arrived at Prescott's house, he was already gone."

They sat in silence for a while, avoiding the occasional pot-hole and deer-crossing as they drove down the bumpy Montana highways.

What if they were already too late?

What if Prescott was already at Clark's house?

Sharing the same thoughts, Hotch turned on the police sirens and sped down the road as cars quickly moved out of their way.

After fifteen minutes, they anxiously pulled into a short, dirt driveway. When they got out of the car, they took a quick look around at their surroundings. There were lots of trees, which would make it fairly easy for the unsub to sneak around the property, unseen. They locked the car and walked up the wooden steps that lead to Beatrice Clark's lodge.

JJ was just about to ring the doorbell when they heard a high-pitched scream fill the air.

She quickly moved her hand away as Hotch kicked the door open, soon realizing it was unlocked. JJ drew out her gun, holding it firmly in front of her. They ran through the house, following the direction of the scream.

"FBI!" Hotch shouted as they rushed into the kitchen.

An older women stood in front of them, her shirt soaking wet along with the floor.

"What are you doing here?!" She gasped, in shock.

JJ put her gun down.

"Are you Beatrice Clark?"

The woman nodded.

"Why'd you scream?" Hotch asked, confused.

"I...uh...was pouring coffee when my cat jumped up on the counter. She scared me, causing me to spill it all over myself," She explained, gesturing towards her coffee-soaked shirt.

It was never a good thing when someone spilled scorching hot coffee on themselves, but JJ and Hotch both sighed in relief.

No unsub here.

Not yet, anyways.

They made it.

"How about you go upstairs and change your shirt while I clean up the floor and make us another pot of coffee," JJ suggested, a sincere smile on her lips.

"When you come back down we'll sit down and talk. Sound good?"

Beatrice grinned and went upstairs.

Now all they had to do was wait for the unsub to strike.

* * *

**A/N: Ciao!**

**Yes, I am deeply ashamed for not updating in 3 days! I just couldn't get myself in the write-y sort of mood! :/**

**Happy Easter to all my American readers out there! :D**

**Hope you enjoyed this quick lil' chapter :) Drama soon! I'm scared, because I'm good at creating drama, not writing it!**

**Guess we'll see how it turns out! ;)**

**You guys make my world go 'round!**

**Love to all!**

**-Sammie**


	14. Parasite

"Looks like we're here," Emily stated as she stretched her arms.

Reid looked up from his book and smiled.

"Guess it's time to get back to work."

Having the jet all to themselves, Reid and Prentiss were surrounded by an unusual silence. At the beginning of the flight, they talked for a while. They were deep in conversation that after a while they ran out of things to say, which is when Reid moved over to the couch and began reading his novel, leaving Prentiss to herself. She played a game on her phone while resting her head against the airplane window, watching the clouds blow past as they flew. Running out of things to keep her busy, she was glad to see the plane hovering over the runway.

Once they landed, they grabbed their bags, thanked the pilot, and made their way to the SUV parked next to the asphalt. As Emily jogged down the a steep, metal airport steps that lead to the ground, she forgot about her phone, which she had placed carelessly in her back pocket. She was too late as she heard a loud _thud _below her. She frantically patted her pockets.

"Shit!"

Reid snapped his head back.

"What?" He said, soon realizing the broken metal pieces that used to be a cell phone scattered across the blacktop.

Emily looked away from the phone, not wanting to see the destruction.

At least she had a replacement plan.

"You have your phone, right?"

Reid gave her a wary look.

"Yeah, but it's been acting up lately."

"Then we'll just have to hope it works until we get back," Prentiss concluded.

They found the keys to the car and hit the road.

**...**

Emily drove as Spencer rested his head on the window, staring at the never-ending hills of green.

"Are you alright?" Emily asked as she stopped for a red light. Even though they were in the country, there sure was a lot of traffic.

Reid jumped a little, hitting his head.

"Uh, yeah...Why do you ask?" He asked, nonchalant.

She turned to face him, looking into his tired, chocolate-brown eyes.

"Because you haven't said a word since we got in the car and you're clearly staring off into space."

Reid frowned and decided whether to tell her the truth or not.

"I'm just a bit distracted," He told her with all honestly.

"I've been up at night worrying about my mom. In the few hours that I actually sleep, I have nightmares. It's the ongoing cycle of my life and there's no way out."

He suddenly felt shame fill his body. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

"I'm sorry."

Emily furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but kept her eyes on the road.

"Reid, there's nothing to be sorry about. I know how you feel. After I was stabbed by Doyle back in that warehouse, I stayed up for months afraid to close my eyes. When I did, I would have horrifying dreams about Doyle and our cases all mixed into one. It was pure torture. After all those months, I finally decided to get help. I went to a therapist and for the first time in my life, I opened up to a complete stranger. After that, I didn't have nightmares anymore."

She took her right hand off the wheel and sympathetically placed it on Reid's shoulder.

"What I'm trying to say is that we, as human beings, cannot keep our emotions locked up inside of us forever. It eats you alive like a parasite."

Spencer made a face.

"I don't have a parasite," He said, emotionless.

"Metaphorically you do," Emily snapped back and cracked a smile.

She put both hands back on the wheel.

"Spencer, you need to stop avoiding your feelings. It only makes things worse. I know you feel like talking about your problems seems like you're complaining about how horrible your life is when there are people dying and suffering all around us, but it's not. There's a difference. Especially when you work as a federal agent and see the horror we witness on a daily basis."

Reid was surprised that Emily used his first name. He was also a bit scared of how right she was about him. He knew he could trust her from the beginning which is why she was the first person he ever confided in about his migraines. He hoped his feeling of trust towards her was mutual in their friendship.

"Thanks," He said and smiled, gratefully.

She smiled back and laughed.

"No need to thank me, but I'll except it!"

Reid checked his phone.

Nothing.

It wasn't very often that his phone stayed silent for more than 20 minutes.

Prentiss quickly turned the wheel, tires slightly screeching as she made a sharp turn.

"We're here!" She announced, over-exaggerating with jazz hands.

"You are way too happy for a FBI Agent."

"Turn that attitude upside down, Pretty Boy!" She winked.

Reid playfully rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

"If only Morgan were here to see this."

Emily jumped out of the driver's seat and followed Reid to the large, light-blue house that awaited their company. Before they walked up to the porch, they stood, Emily's arm around Spencer's waist, and watched the beautiful pink and orange skies darken as the sun set behind the horizon.

After weeks of constant stress and work, they could both agree that watching the sunset disappear for the night was the best memory they shared in a while.

They took their time as they walked towards the front door. Ringing the doorbell, they patiently waited for a response.

* * *

**A/N: Hey!**

**Yes, I know...It's been 5 days since I last posted a chapter and I'M SORRY! :(**

**I've actually been pretty busy lately with school and fangirling over other people's fan-fictions, haha!**

**Sorry if I've lost my writing skills, (if i had any to begin with...) I don't know what been happening lately! :/**

**I'm still super excited to write the next few chapters, though, because I'm finally getting this story going :D**

**Thank you guys for staying with me, it means A LOT! :)**

**-Sammie**


	15. Destination

"Mr. Dallas?" Emily asked as they waited by the front door.

It had been three minutes since they first rang the doorbell.

Reid, losing his patience, firmly knocked on the door with his fist.

"FBI! We just need to talk!"

No answer.

"We're coming in!" Prentiss yelled through the door.

She was slightly scared as she took a few steps back. It had been years since she last kicked a door open. The team always left it to Morgan.

Right as she lifted her leg, she saw something move from inside the house. Staring intensely, she lost her balance and fell awkwardly against the door.

"What's wrong?" Reid asked hesitantly.

She continued to watch as she saw a shadow enter the kitchen.

"There's someone in there."

Reid pulled out his gun.

"Okay, I'll go in through the back door just in case."

Emily frowned.

"If he's home, why didn't he just answer the door? He doesn't have anything to hide."

"We all have our secrets," Reid concluded as he jogged towards the back of the house.

When he reached the back entrance, he noticed the metal handle that belonged to the screen door was rusted over. Pulling the sleeve of his shirt over his hand, he carefully swung it open. Reaching for the last door, he gently turned the knob.

It was unlocked.

If Dallas never used this door, why was it not locked?

Taking a step away from the entrance, he looked around for anything unusual.

He bent down to look in the many bushes that covered the side of the house and began investigating until he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it and continued working. They were in the country and it was dark out. It probably had just been an animal aimlessly wandering around the property.

He turned his attention back to the bushes.

_Snap._

He drew his head back, instantly, and saw where the noise had come from.

Holding his gun out in front of him, he ran towards the shadow.

"Stop! FBI!" Reid shouted.

The barely visible figure stopped and turned around, showing his face.

Reid grabbed his flashlight and flicked it on.

"Agh!" The man yelled, blinded by the sudden ray of light. He quickly turned his head away as he sprinted towards the woods.

"Stop!" Spencer yelled one more time, in shock, before chasing after him.

In the few seconds he saw the man's face, he had recognized him.

It was Hunter Prescott.

_What was Prescott doing in Dallas' backyard, let alone the state of Kansas?! They had just sent Morgan and Rossi to check out his house in Montana..._

He stopped contemplating the situation as his mind finally put together the missing pieces of the case.

Hunter Prescott was their unsub.


	16. Vibe

Prentiss forcefully kicked the front door open and walked inside. She held her gun firmly out in front of her, ready for anything, as she began searching the house.

After she had cleared the first floor she ran upstairs, her heels clicking against the wooden steps.

She forcefully swung the Guest Room door open, revealing nothing but a neatly made bed and a small work desk.

Clear.

She approached the next room. A bad vibe crawled down her spine as she walked. Ignoring the feeling, she continued on with her investigation.

Stealthily jumping into the hallway bathroom, she carefully pulled aside the expensive shower curtains that elegantly wrapped around an old, porcelain bathtub.

Clear.

It wasn't until she reached the Master Bedroom that she figured out the reasoning behind the bad vibe she had experienced before and the aching feeling that secretly wretched in her stomach before they even got there.

Entering the room, she checked the closet before putting her gun back in its holster. She ran over to the lifeless body laying in the middle of the floor and checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

On her knees, she could feel the warmth of blood slowly soaking her jeans.

_Warm._

Lifting herself off the floor, she found Dallas' home phone hooked up on his bedside table. She shakily grabbed the telephone, staining it with blood, and dialed Hotch's number.

"Hotchner."

"It's Emily," She quickly stated.

"Where have you been? I've tried to get in touch with you for several hours!" He quietly yelled into the phone, not wanting anyone to hear.

"Hotch, Jeffrey Dallas is dead. When I found his body the blood was still warm. Our unsub was _just _here and we still managed to miss him." Prentiss rambled, avoiding his question.

The line was silent for a moment.

"It's a shame we couldn't save him...We were so close. Now that Dallas is dead, we have less than 24 hours to catch our assailant before he strikes again."

Emily took a deep breath.

"Do we have any leads?"

"Prentiss," He began slowly.

"We know who the unsub is. I've tried to tell you that, but neither you or Reid have answered my calls. The unsub is Hunter Prescott."

_Reid._

"Oh no..." Emily trailed off as she sprinted out of the Master Bedroom.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, concerned.

"Reid," She ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"I-I told him to come in through the back door while I took the front. It's been about twenty minutes since I've last seen him. How could I have completely forgot about him?!" Her lip began to quiver slightly.

"Reid!" She yelled as she made her way towards the back of the house.

Silence.

Finally making it to the door she realized it was open.

"Reid!" She yelled once more.

Hearing the same longing silence as before, she ran out the door and looked around.

"Hotch," She softly spoke as she held the phone against her ear again.

"Emily, What's going on?"

"His gun..." Fear crept into her voice.

"It's on the ground."

She bent down and picked it up, placing it in her jacket pocket.

Hotch sighed.

"This isn't good. Reid doesn't even know that Prescott is the unsub. If they cross paths with each other who knows what might happen."

"I know," She solemnly agreed.

"I have to go look for him, but I don't know where to start. Hotch, there's about one-hundred acres of forest here."

"I know this is hard, but I need you to stay where you are. I can't risk losing you, too," He said with all seriousness.

"But-"

"Stop. I'm going to have JJ call for an ambulance and back-up squad to be sent to your coordinates. Stay put until they get there and then you can help them search for Reid."

"Fine," Emily spat angrily.

She hung up on her boss as she walked back inside the house. Putting the phone down on the kitchen counter, she nervously paced the room, subconsciously picking at her cuticles.

A decision had to be made.

She could either anxiously wait around until the search-team came or she could disobey Hotch's orders and try to find Reid on her own.

She stopped pacing and sat down on the cozy, brown leather couch that occupied the living room. She stretched herself out, positioning her head on a pillow and closed her eyes.

As much as it pained her, she ignored the voices inside her head screaming at her to run into the forest and find the missing member of her team.

Hotch was right. If Emily went to look for Reid by herself, it was most likely she would get lost or be put in danger.

Laying on the couch, she thought back to Jeffrey Dallas. If she would've just broken down that door instead of waiting for a response, she could have saved him.

But she didn't. He bled out right in front of her and there was nothing she could do.

If she would have checked on Reid before going upstairs, she probably would've stopped him from disappearing.

But she hadn't and now one of her best friends was on his own, in a town he had never been to, with no weapon or fighting skills, and was most likely with a man he would soon find out is their unsub.

A tear slipped from her eye as guilt quickly took over her conscience.

_This is all my fault._

_I'm so sorry._

* * *

_**Hey Guys!**  
_

_**So here's chapter 16!**_

_**I'm so happy that this story's finally Rollin'!**_

_**Did you like this chapter?**_

_**Please review!**_

_**You guys are amazing and thank you for reading!**_

_**-Sammie**_


	17. Intoxicated

_Cant. Breathe._

As Reid continued to run, he could feel his body involuntarily slowing down. Before he could fully stop himself, his knees buckled out from under him, causing his burning limbs to collapse. It was too dark to see anything, but he could feel the crisp leaves blowing around him as he sat on the forest floor.

He tried to steady his breathing as he laced his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair.

It was times like these when he wished he'd accepted Morgan's past offers to help him get in shape.

_"When I'm done with you, you'll have all the ladies checking you out, Pretty Boy!"_

Reid couldn't help but smile as he thought back to some of Morgan's humorous commentary.

Feeling a bit more energetic, he lifted himself off the ground and looked around.

_Where am I?_

It was getting cold and the only thing he could see were trees and shrubbery. He tried to find Dallas' house, but there was no use.

He was officially lost.

He was officially lost in one of the biggest forests in Kansas without a map, food, water or backup. He would probably die of dehydration or a gun shot to the head before anyone would find him.

_I pretty much just signed my death certificate._

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. It was his only chance of getting help.

Pressing the Power button multiple times with no results, he angrily threw the phone at a nearby tree, causing the screen to shatter as it fell to the ground.

He was about to start running again when he remembered something unusual after taking out his cellphone.

_I'm screwed._

He looked down at his waist, instantly spotting the empty holster.

_Where's my gun?!_

He tried to think back to the last time he saw it, but he couldn't concentrate. The unsub could be anywhere in these woods by now. He had to find Prescott before it was too late.

Adrenaline quickly coursed through his veins as he ran, full speed, further into the forest. While running, he had a sudden feeling of Claustrophobia as the shadowy trees seemed to get closer and closer together the farther he ventured. He had only been running for three minutes, but he felt an extreme ache take over his calf muscles. Was he really this out of shape?

If he actually made it out of this alive, he definitely knew what his New Years Resolution was going to be.

He stopped running as his lungs begged for air. He stood, hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Staying in that stance for a bit, he was caught off guard when he heard something disturb the bitter silence. Slowly standing up, he tried to figure out the direction of the sound.

He heard it again.

Instinctively, he reached for his gun. Soon realizing its absence, he blindly felt around the forest floor in search of a weapon.

Finding a broken tree branch, he held it out in front of him as he followed the small, yet audible sounds that originated from the West.

Carefully tiptoeing over twigs and leaves, he crouched down behind a bush and peeked around it.

He didn't know whether to feel relieved or scared when he saw the muscular figure.

Hunter Prescott.

Reid could see him, about twenty feet away, slowly weaving through a path of trees. He didn't bother moving any branches out-of-the-way as they forcefully struck him across the chest. Those branches would easily cause anyone pain if hit by them. Prescott didn't even flinch.

A theory strong in his mind, he continued to study the man's body language. He noticed that Hunter swayed slightly with each step. His theory was proven.

Hunter Prescott was intoxicated.

_But why?_

Spencer might be able to use this to his advantage, but then again, it could end up being his worst disadvantage. If Prescott was swaying, that means he might be easier to subdue. But since he didn't flinch or seem to feel any pain, that probably means he is dealing with an "adrenaline-high" along with an "alcoholic-rush" which will make him act out a lot more violent than usual.

Starting to lose track of the unsub, he got up and quietly followed him.

_Does he even know where he's going?_

After fifteen minutes of "follow the leader," Reid came to the conclusion that Prescott wasn't going anywhere in particular, which was very good news. It would be a lot easier for him to create a plan without having to worry about time.

Time.

He hastily grabbed at the sleeve of his shirt and rolled it up. He sighed with relief as he saw his gray watch tightly strapped around his wrist.

10:06PM.

He had a little less than two hours to catch the unsub. Reid didn't know if Jeffrey Dallas was alive, but he wasn't going to wait until twelve o' clock to find out.

He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. Panic immediately surged through him.

Swiftly glancing in every direction, Hunter Prescott was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't until he sprinted about fifty feet in the opposite direction that he found Prescott.

"H-H-Hunter...?" He asked shakily, out of breath, as he stared at the still body sprawled across a pile of leaves.

After a minute of silence, Reid proceeded the body with caution.

He bent down and checked for a pulse.

Still beating.

He continued to check on a few little things before he decided that Hunter had most likely fell unconscious from dehydration or alcohol abuse, considering he could literally smell the booze from a mile away.

Reid checked to see if Prescott had a gun.

He didn't.

"Of course not," He mumbled to himself. Today was not a lucky day for him, that's for sure.

Patting his back pockets, he pulled out his handcuffs.

If he was going to restrain him, now was the perfect time.

He turned his attention to Prescott again and carefully rolled him over.

Taking one his wrists, he tightly clicked the handcuff into place. Reaching for his other wrist, he was suddenly overwhelmed as he was vigorously thrown off Hunter, his body crying with pain as he slammed against the large base of a tree.

Reid looked up, confused, and was greeted with a venomous stare.

Quickly profiling Hunter's expression, he soon realized that he wasn't staring angrily at Spencer, he was staring angrily at the handcuffs.

Mentally stable, Reid slowly slid himself up the base of the tree, wincing in pain.

Without another look, Hunter sprinted out of sight.

Reid once again followed, anger replacing the little patience he had left.

10:35PM.

_What the hell did I get myself into?_

* * *

**Aloha!**

Wow... This is definitely the longest chapter I've ever written! Sorry if it lacked a little "Pizazz," I'm having constant Writer's Block this week and it sucks!

By the way, this is kind of confusing, but I started to write this story based on the characters' lives during Season 6, but now I think it's basically Seasons 6,7, and 8 mixed together, because I added Emily instead of Blake, but there's still Maeve references to come...So yeah! XD

Do you like Blake? (Comment your opinion!) :D

Thank you guys for reading! This story just reached 7k views today, I'm so happy! (And 37 followers!)

Love to all!

-Sammie


	18. Fight or Flight

As Reid sprinted, dodging the constant obstacles nature threw his way, he couldn't help but think of Emily. It had been several hours since they'd last seen each other.

She had to know he'd gone missing by now, right?

_C'mon Spence, you can do this. I believe in you. _

"JJ?" He quietly whispered into the night.

_You can do this, _The voice repeated.

_Henry's counting on you. You wouldn't want to let him down, would you?_

He shook his head.

"Never."

**...**

Tripping over his shoes, he could feel his body weakening with every step. He hadn't slept in two days which caused his vision to blur at times. He also hadn't eaten anything since four-thirty that morning and never drank enough water due to his undeniable coffee addiction.

All of these life habits never seemed to affect him as drastically as they did now.

_How do JJ and Henry know I'm lost in a forest if they're in two different states?_

_How can I hear JJ talking to me? It couldn't have been a memory, because she had never said those words to him before. She had said some like it, but never those exact words. I would have remembered._

He continued to question himself until he saw something move in the distance.

Moving closer, he could see two paths up ahead. He'd never seen them before, but Prescott might have. If only he'd known which one he had taken. If he followed the wrong one, it could lead him in the opposite direction of his target.

He stared blankly at the paths.

They both started out identical, sloping downwards towards a cluster of pine trees. After that he could tell that the paths split, but he couldn't see where they went, because they were both covered with a leafy canopy of vines and branches.

There was a 50% chance that he would choose the right path.

There was also a 50% chance that he would choose the wrong path.

He slowly stepped forward, statistics racing through his mind as his feet began to walk down the path on his left.

_Stop._

Spencer froze.

_ Right._

"What?" He asked in confusion.

_Why didn't you listen to your gut?_

"I-I don't know...?"

_You trusted statistics and ended up choosing the wrong path._

Reid turned around and took the path leading right.

_I may not be old, but I've still got experience. Now go out there and be a hero, Pretty Boy._

He didn't know why he was hearing the voices of his team in his head, but he liked it. Smiling, he jogged the length of the path.

**...**

11:13PM.

The wind grew stronger as he climbed, blowing loose strands of hair away from his face.

"Hunter Prescott?" He yelled.

There was a faint noise, but no reply.

"I'm not armed, I just want to talk."

He watched as a deer trotted aimlessly through the grassy plains.

"If you tell me where you are I can unlock those handcuffs. They can be very painful after a while."

After a moment of listening, he finally heard foot steps.

"Up here," Hunter's husky voice echoed.

He arrived at the top of the terrain minutes later. His weak body collapsed to the ground as he panted.

"So we meet again," Prescott announced as he walked up to Reid.

"Yep," He replied warily as he stood up.

Prescott paced back and forth, deciding how to start the conversation.

"How are you going to arrest me if you don't have a weapon or police squad?" He smirked.

"I'm not going to arrest you, I just want to talk. Remember?"

"Then talk."

Reid noticed that Hunter was still swaying, but had gained a bit more control of himself.

"Why would you get drunk before killing someone? If I were a murderer who took a lot of time planning his attacks, I would want to be at my best so I could savor the moment and make sure everything worked out as planned."

Prescott's nostrils flared slightly as rage quickly took over his body.

"It's not about the planning, its about the power. If I didn't drink, then it wouldn't be as much fun to do this!" He said as he pulled his fist back and punched Reid straight in the jaw.

Spencer could still feel the strong force of Prescott's hand as he fell to his knees. He tightly held the side of his face as a stinging sensation began to form in his cheek.

Hunter spat next to him.

"You're such a wuss for an FBI Agent," He shook his head in disgrace.

Reid could feel his past anger resurfacing. He knew Prescott was just trying to get under his skin, but he also knew that there was some truth in his insult. Reid was weak, both mentally and physically, and there was nothing he could do about it.

As Prescott watched Spencer's face, a menacing smile crept across his own.

"What are you going to do, Sissy Boy," He kicked Reid hard in the stomach.

"Fight me? Good luck with that."

Reid sat still. It had been a long time since he last fought someone, or attempted to. He knew he was going to lose, but he had no choice.

Calmly regaining his composure, he stood and dashed towards Hunter. Once they were both on the ground, he hovered over Prescott and tried to pin him down. Failing, Prescott collided his skull with Reid's and started throwing punches left and right. Spencer stealthily avoided most of them. He felt like he was twelve again.

Not able to fight back, he swooped down and pulled Hunter's legs out from under him which caused Prescott to fall with great force. Reid began to continuously kick him in the abdomen with his Converse. If he had known he would be running and fighting earlier that day he would have picked a better pair of shoes to wear. Prescott grunted painfully as he put a protective arm around his torso.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Hunter looked briefly to his left. Fear suddenly registering on his face.

"Stop-"

"Why?" Spencer growled.

"You've killed four innocent people and you plan on killing more! Have you ever thought about how much pain you've caused not only them, but their families and loved ones? You haven't even touched my mother yet, and I've been up all night worrying about her for the past two weeks!" He yelled venomously.

He was too caught up in the moment, but how could he not be? Hunter Prescott had threatened to take away the most important person in his life. The only person he truly loved and cared for.

"You're a monster!" Reid shouted as he threw himself on top of Prescott and kneed him in the throat. He was running out of tactics.

Hunter began to cough as he tried to wriggle himself out from under Reid's choke-out position. His face started to turn red.

"How _dare _you call me a monster!" He yelled, raising his voice.

"I only do what I do because I have to!" His anger ignited a shock of pure strength to surge through his muscles. He used his legs to flip Reid off of him and staggered towards the ledge that waited idly behind them.

Spencer saw his chance and ran towards Prescott in attempt to push him off the edge.

Before Reid could get to him though, Hunter quickly bent over and picked up a large rock that he had placed near the ledge before Spencer arrived. It wasn't his first time protecting himself in the woods. Focusing on his aim, he took his chances as he threw the rock towards Reid. If he had missed, it would have messed up his entire plan.

He smiled intently as the rock hit hard against the top of Spencer's forehead. He instantly collapsed, inches away from Prescott's feet. He watched as fresh blood began to drip from Reid's wound, slowly staining the grass around him.

"I didn't want to have to do this," He muttered to the unconscious figure next to him.

"But you've left me with no choice."

He thought back to the last five minutes while he rolled Spencer's body closer to the ledge.

"I'm sorry about your mother, but I have work to do," He apologized, remorseful. The corners of his lips bent downwards forming a small frown.

"I'm truly sorry."

He vigorously kicked Reid off the ledge. He watched as Reid's inert body stumbled down the wicked hill, hitting trees and bushes on the way.

At least he wouldn't feel anything.

Not yet, anyways...

"Wha-What have I become?" Prescott stuttered shamefully.

He sat on the ledge, his hands cupping his face.

"God, please forgive me. I will make it up to you one day," He took a deep breath, tears stinging his eyes.

"I promise."

* * *

**Hey!**

**Sorry I haven't updated in a week, I've been pretty busy (for a change, haha!)**

**A bit more drama than last chapter, but there's still more to come! **

**Small shoutout to my friend, Datsaxophoneplayar on IG for helping me edit this chapter!**

**Love y'all!**

**-Sammie**


	19. A Guilty Conscience

Emily dragged her feet as she continuously searched the premises for the hundredth time now.

Still nothing.

Moisture began to run down her forehead and into her eyes as it began to rain.

It was almost midnight, pitch black, raining heavily, and there was an assailant on the loose. Her night couldn't get any better.

**...**

"Freeze!"

Emily spun around. She couldn't see anyone, but the voice sounded like it had come from the West near Dallas' house.

Holding her flashlight out in front of her, she sprinted back to where she started. As she got closer, she could see red and blue police lights flashing in the distance. When she finally arrived at the house there was a frenzied huddle of sheriffs on the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" Emily yelled over all the commotion.

An officer that was reporting information back to the police station via radio got out of his car and walked over.

"FBI?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm Emily Prentiss with the BAU," She stated, pulling out her credential and flipped it open.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Chief Jacobs with the Kansas Police Department," He greeted as they firmly shook hands.

"What's happening?" Emily gestured towards the crazed scene behind her.

"We found Hunter Prescott trying to sneak back into Jeffrey Dallas' house. He tried to make a run for it, but we managed to catch him. He resisted arrest, so my fellow sheriffs here had to tackle him. We're on our way to take him down to the station right now-"

"Wait," She interrupted. She turned around, ditching Jacobs, and ran over to where the three sheriffs guarded Prescott. They were in the middle of talking.

"...Put these handcuffs on you?" She heard one of them asking Hunter.

He stood in silence for a minute. If he told them about Reid then it would lead to a lot of follow-up questions which he was in no mood to answer. But he already got himself caught. There was no point in lying now.

"An FBI agent tried to cuff me while I was unconscious back in the forest, but I outran him." He answered honestly.

Prentiss took a defiant step towards him.

"Where is he?"

Prescott stared her straight in the eyes for a moment and then looked past her.

"Well if I had to guess, I'd say he should be somewhere over there," He answered as he pointed towards the edge of the forest.

Emily glared viciously.

"What do you mean _he should _be over there?"_  
_

"Look," He started, raising his palms up.

"Your agent cornered me and I panicked. I did what I had to do."

Prentiss' cheeks reddened as a mixture of anger and fear rose up from inside of her. She began to walk away, but turned around and said a quick, "I hope you go to hell" before darting off.

**...**

"Reid?"

"Reid?!"

"REID!"

She yelled desperately into the forest, but received no signs of hope.

Her high heels dug quietly into the soft ground beneath her as she walked. Even though she had a waterproof FBI jacket on, the weather still left her shivering. But she soon realized that it wasn't the cold precipitation that caused her body to shake. It was the guilt eating away at her conscience.

Even though half of her mind tried telling her otherwise, she knew it was her fault that Reid got lost in the first place. If she had just checked on him instead of getting so caught up in everything around her, none of this would have had to happen.

If he didn't make it out of this alive, she would spend every day of her life knowing she was the cause of her best friend's death.

Her team mate's death.

Her brother's death.

She could feel her eyes burn as tears threatening to spill over which was a rare, but recognizable feeling for her. She knelt to the ground, getting mud on her outfit. Her body felt heavy as if she were carrying someone on her back.

In that moment she stopped caring about the world around her. Nothing mattered anymore.

She worked for the government. Her job was to protect those around her.

And what was she doing?

She was in the middle of the forest trying to find someone that she had been responsible for keeping safe and couldn't.

She wasn't _protecting _anyone!

Her shoulders shuddered violently as she cried. Her tears joining the rest of the moisture that seeped into the earth. Staring at the ground, she threw her flashlight in front of her without turning it off. She was wasting the battery of the only source of light she had left, but she did not care.

She continued to cry for what seemed like hours until she finally pulled herself together. She couldn't give up. Not yet. Straightening her back, she reached for her flashlight. It wasn't until she lifted her head that she saw it.

_W-w-what? _She thought to herself as she immediately pulled her arm away, leaving the flashlight exactly where it was.

She went on her hands and knees, positioning her body so that she was at eye level with the flashlight. She looked straight ahead, carefully following the ray of light with her tired eyes.

The forest was mainly made up of two things: Trees and scattered leaves.

She couldn't see that well from so far away, but she definitely knew what she saw was neither trees nor leaves.

She left the flashlight and crawled closer.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but after a few long and hard seconds of intense staring, the rusty gears in her brain finally clicked.

_Oh. My. God._

Not able to control her body all the way, she did a half-animal, half-human sprint further into the forest.

Reaching the area, she fell to her knees and drew in a deep breath.

_Reid..._

She frantically hovered over him as she tried to brush him off a bit. Putting two fingers to the side of his neck, she checked for a pulse.

Her heart sank, but raised again when she felt the smallest beat thump against her index and middle finger.

_Don't worry, Spencer. I'm going to get you out of here._

She tried to lift him up, but when she looked at the spot where he had laid, she saw a frightfully large puddle of blood staining the green grass surrounding them.

"What?" She murmured to herself as she tried to find the source of the blood.

Starting from his toes and up, she finally found the injury. She gently placed her finger over the massive cut above his temple. It was deep.

Is this what Prescott "Had to do?"

She hugged Reid's motionless body as she urgently talked into the microphone embedded inside the cuff of her shirt sleeve.

"Missing agent found. I repeat: Missing agent found. I'm East of the forest edge. I need medics. NOW."

She reached for Reid's hand and held it in her own.

_Stay strong, Reid. Stay strong._

* * *

**What's up!**

**Yes, Reid is safe. No need to fret!**

**The next chapters should revolve more around the unsub, so stay tuned for that!**

**Thank you guys, yet again, for reading and staying interested with this story even when it gets boring and I don't update for a bit!**

**I'm going to try to post more frequently, so look out for that :)**

**Did you see the CM season finale ("Demons") Wednesday night?**

**Comment your thoughts about it below! :D**

**Stay amazing my young fangirls & fanboys! (even though you might be older than me, haha!)**

**-Sammie**


	20. Virtue & Sin

The ambulance rattled back and forth as it sped down winding, gravel back roads.

"Reid," Emily began to whisper as she gently rubbed his arm.

"If you can hear me, I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you and I'm sorry that I let Prescott hurt you."

She moved her arm away from Reid's bed and sat back in her seat. She stared at the van's grey ceiling as she watched an old memory play out in front of her.

_"What's the matter with you?"_

_He furrowed his eyebrows as he shook his head._

_"W-W-What do you mean, 'What's the matter with me?'"_

_"I've never seen you act like this."_

_"Oh really, Oh, in the months you've known me, you've never seen me act this way?" He replied offensively._

_"Hey, no offense, Emily, but you really don't know what you're talking about, do ya?"_

_He walked away, making his way down the hot, crowded alley._

Emily looked down at Reid's still body and then at the medic who was writing something down on her clipboard.

"He's not on any narcotics, is he?" She asked nervously.

The nurse checked the machine behind her.

"Nope."

"Good," Emily sighed as she took a deep breath.

She couldn't let Reid fall back into his addiction again. He had worked too long and too hard to lose himself now. He had been through so much and even though it had been over five years ago, she still felt the guilt of watching Tobias Hankle hurt him and not being able to stop him. She would never let that happen again, not even if her life depended on it.

**...**

"Why were you at Jeffrey Dallas' house?" Derek asked Prescott as they sat in the dimly-lit interrogation room.

"I told you, I was just visiting an old friend!" Prescott answered, slamming his fist against the wooden table.

While Morgan was interviewing Prescott; JJ, Hotch, and Rossi watched from behind the one-way Plexiglas window. After hearing what happened, they all flew down to work on the case.

"Something's making him angry," JJ stated as they continued to watch.

"No offense, JJ, but if I were a narcissistic murderer who just got caught, I would be mad too."

JJ made a face at him.

"No, I mean look at the way he's fidgeting with his hands. Something's bothering him."

"He keeps looking at the clock," Hotch chimed in.

Rossi grabbed the case file laying next to him and fanned through it.

"Maybe he's late."

"Late for what, though?" Hotch persisted.

"I guess we'll have to find out."

**...**

Emily turned the corner and walked into Reid's room. The doctors taking care of him had said he would wake up soon, but she still worried as she saw an unconscious Spencer Reid laying flat on his hospital bed. She grabbed a plastic chair from against the wall and dragged it next to his bedside. Pulling out a book, she sat back and tried to relax. Reid was safe and that was all that mattered.

After an hour of waiting, she went down to the hospital cafeteria to get some coffee. Her body surely needed it. When she returned, she smiled as she saw Reid looking around the room.

"Hey!" She cheered happily.

"Romance?" Reid questioned as he held the book she had been reading before she left.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, ignoring his comment.

"I've had better days," He replied with that goofy grin she always loved.

She walked over to the end of his bed and sat down.

"Should I tell you why you're in the hospital, or do you want to figure it out on your own?" She said playfully.

He looked down at his body as he began to carefully test his limbs.

"Guessing by the major pain in my abdomen and leg, I'm going to say that I have a broken rib and ankle?"

"Close!" Prentiss couldn't help but laugh.

"You actually have _two _broken ribs and a mild concussion..."

"Oh, great." He smirked.

He watched as Emily's expression changed. He could tell she was trying to hide it, but he could definitely tell that something was on her mind.

"What's wrong?"

Emily shook her head slightly, clearing her head, as she stared at him. There was no point in lying.

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry," She responded.

Reid furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Sorry for what?"

"For not checking on you back at the Dallas house. If I just would have looked to see if you were alright-"

He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Emily, what happened back there was one-hundred percent my fault. I barely even stepped foot into that house. I was looking around outside when I saw something move in my peripheral vision. I'm the one who made the mistake of chasing Prescott into the woods without backup. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be thanking you for saving my life!"

Emily's eyes were filled with shock.

"You deliberately went after the unsub by yourself?! I thought he took you by force! What were you thinking?!"

He let go of her hand and combed his fingers through his matted hair.

"That's the thing. I _wasn't _thinking and I'm sorry." He confessed and bowed his head.

"You know I can't be mad at you," She said after a minute and walked over and put her arms around him.

"Just don't ever do that to me again."

Reid smiled into her shoulder as they hugged. He was glad he had someone in his life as wonderful as Prentiss. He always felt safe when she was around him. Especially when he was wrapped in her warm, comforting embrace.

Not wanting to, he pulled away as she sat down in the plastic chair beside him.

"Thank you...for everything."

She smiled as she stared into his light-brown eyes.

"That's what family's for, right?

* * *

**Hello!**

**So here's some more Reid/Prentiss action!**

**I'm still deciding which direction I want this story to go in, but I think I've got most of it down :)**

**I know I'm not the best of writers(or even close!), So if you see something I need to improve on, let me down below! :D**

**Thank you guys for reading and I will see ya soon!**

**-Sammie**


	21. Unknown

Hotch hastily entered the conference room, coffee in hand.

"It's almost been forty-eight hours," He stated as he sat down.

"We still have nothing to hold against him. We'll have to let him walk," JJ mumbled, frowning into her drink.

The team watched as Rossi flew up from his seat.

"We don't need evidence!" He hollered and pointed towards the door.

"Prescott is obviously hiding something, and we need to use our profiling skills to figure out what it is."

"Jeez Rossi, calm down," Morgan responded.

He sat back down in his seat.

"Sorry, I just want to finish this case once and for all."

**...**

"Hey Garcia, it's Rossi."

"So I've heard," She replied as she threw her magazine across her desk.

"What can I do for ya?"

He thought for a moment before answering.

"I, uh, need you to pull up Hunter Prescott's phone log."

"Your wish is my command!" She replied as she stretched her fingers and began to furiously type away at her console.

Within seconds, her computer screen filled up with tabs. She quickly exited out of them until she had one left.

"Someone's been a very busy man," She joked, scrolling down the endless list of phone numbers.

Rossi pulled out his notepad and pen that he always carried around with him.

"Were there any calls that may look suspicious?"

"It'll take some time, but most of the calls looked like they were either from family or work." She said as she began organizing the list.

"Call me if you find anything."

"You betcha!" She concluded cheerfully.

It was about time someone asked for her help. She almost checked to see if her phone was broken. She was glad that she could finally be of use in the investigation again.

**...**

(30 minutes later)

_Ring._

"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch answered, looking at the caller ID.

"I heard about your forty-eight hour dilemma, and I think you'll be happy to know that I've got a possible lead."

He set his phone down in the middle of the large conference table.

"Go ahead, you're on speaker."

She smiled and adjusted her headset.

"So I looked into Prescott's phone records, as Rossi asked, and after tirelessly sorting through the calls, I found multiple calls Prescott received from unknown numbers. Being the overachiever that I am, I tried to track them down, but all the of them were disposable phones, so I couldn't. If you ask for my opinion, I'd say that all the calls were made by the same person, since each phone number was registered at the same location."

Morgan grinned at the phone.

"What would we do without you, Baby Girl?" He replied playfully.

She laughed, smirking to herself as she ended the phone call. Returning her attention back to her monitor, she searched relentlessly as she cross-referenced the unknown phone numbers with all the convenient stores that sold disposable cell phones in Kansas. She knew it would take a long time, even with her amazing computer skills, to find the information she needed, but it would all be worth it in the end. Once she found the store, she would be able to send the coordinates to her fellow team mates and let them talk to the store owner.

She was prepared to do whatever it took to help her family nail Hunter Prescott with the punishment he deserved.

* * *

**Here's a short little chapter for you guys!**

**Before you say it, Yes, I know that I use a lot of dialogue in my chapters! My writing goal is to work on using less of it.**

**So basically this chapter is a bit of foreshadowing for future events, so that's why it's shorter than my last few dramatic scenes.**

**As always, you guys are AMAZING, and I wouldn't love to write if it weren't for you!**

**Speaking of amazing, this story is just about to reach 11K views! It may not be a lot for some people, but it's more than enough for me! Just to know that a few people have read and liked my story means so much! :D **

**Thank you all!**

**-Sammie**


	22. Victor Hale

"Ah-ha!" Garcia yelled triumphantly, throwing her hands up.

She couldn't stop smiling as she sent the information to the printer.

After ten restless hours of doing nothing but typing and chugging down coffee, she finally found the answers she had been looking for.

She spun around in her office chair as she rolled herself to the opposite side of the room and dialed Morgan's number. After three suspenseful rings, he finally picked up.

"W-What's up?" He answered wearily. He rolled off the couch that belonged to the Kansas Police Department and rubbed his eyes.

"Good morning, Sleepy head!" She replied and began to yawn. No matter how much coffee she drank, she was bound to crash at some point.

Morgan walked over to the coffee machine and started to brew up a fresh pot.

"It's four in the morning, please tell me you have some good news, Baby Girl."

She spun herself over to the printer and collected the pages.

"I sure do!"

"I'll go wake up the team."

* * *

"Rise and shine, my furry friends, because I've got some great news for you all!" Garcia greeted the team over speakerphone.

The team huddled around the phone laying on the round table as they took turns pouring themselves a cup of freshly made coffee.

"So while you all were busy snoozing away, I spent the night gathering the names of all the convenience stores in the state of Kansas," She paused as she yawned and rubbed her face with her hand. Without her proper beauty sleep, she was a mess.

Emily acknowledged the longing pause and moved closer to the phone.

"Garcia, when was the last time you've slept?"

She pulled her fingers through her disheveled blonde hair and leaned on her palm.

"Two days ago, I think. Mama needs her beauty sleep."

"Make sure you get some as soon as you're done talking to us, okay?"

"I will, no need to worry!" She answered.

She grabbed her fluffy pink pen from her desk and began tapping it against the tabletop.

"Anyways," She added, changing the subject.

"After finding the names of every convenience store in Kansas, which is one-hundred and eight to be exact, I then cross-reference them with the stores that sell disposable phones, which only decreased the list slightly. After that, I put in each phone number until I got a hit. Sounds a lot easier than it actually is. The hit turned out to be from a gas station convenience store two hours away in a small town called Fredonia. I'm sending the coordinates to your phones as we speak."

The Police Station kitchenette was quiet as synchronized chimes filled the room.

"Thanks, Garcia, you did good. Now get some rest and we'll catch up with you later." Hotch said.

"Good luck, my loves!" She concluded and hung up the phone. She felt proud of herself as she sat back in her chair and closed her eyes.

All she had to do now was wait until her wonderful family got justice for the small city of Cheney, Kansas and returned to their rightful home back in Quantico, Virginia where she could greet them all with well-deserved hugs.

* * *

Morgan turned the volume up on the SUV radio as they sat in silence. He had insisted on driving, but JJ told him that his driving always made her nervous, so he had to resort to the passenger's seat. At least he had control over the radio.

"We're here," JJ announced as she reached over to the radio and turned it off.

Morgan gave her a look, but she ignored it and focused on her parallel parking. There weren't many people roaming around, but the road was crowded with cars. After they successfully parked, Morgan jumped out of the vehicle and looked down at his phone.

"This looks like the place," He said as he compared the picture on his phone to the store in front of them. The sign in the picture Garcia had sent them clearly said Quicky's Mini Mart, but they couldn't make out the store's metal sign due to years of rust and low maintenance.

Morgan held the door open as they walked in. Looking around, they could see that even though there were about 2,400 people who lived in town, not one had stopped by for a long time. They could smell the faint aroma of mildew as a short middle-aged man walked towards them.**  
**

"Hello! What can I do for you?" He asked, making his way behind the counter. He ducked down and grabbed a baseball cap to cover the bald spot forming at the base of his scalp.

JJ walked over to the counter and pulled out her credentials. "I'm Jennifer Jareau with the FBI, and this is my partner, Derek Morgan." He quickly flipped open his credentials as well. "We'd just like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay with you."

"Um, sure," The man replied, a bit shocked that the only people to visit his store just happened to be the feds.

Morgan glanced around at the store's inventory. "You sell disposable phones here, right?" He asked the store owner.

"Oh, yes. You never know when you'll need a backup phone in these parts. Service can be pretty bad at times."

"Have you seen anyone come in here recently and buy multiple phones during his visit?" JJ continued for Morgan as he walked around.

The store owner looked down at the counter as he tried to remember. "No one has purchased one recently, but I do remember someone coming in a few months ago and buying some." He looked over at the computer that sat abandoned next to the cash register. "I would look up his purchase, but he paid in cash, which means his transaction was not saved into our system files."

JJ thought for a moment before bringing out her phone. She opened up the email Garcia had sent them with all the information they needed.

"By any chance, if I gave you the production code for a specific phone model, would you be able to look it up for me?" She asked hopeful.

Finding nothing that helped their investigation, Morgan returned to the front of the store and stood beside JJ.

"I can try. What's the code?" He responded as he turned to his old computer and pressed the power button.

JJ began to slowly read off the numbers that Garcia had sent as the man typed. When he finished entering the code, a _ding_ noise was heard. They all looked at the ancient computer screen as the man scrolled down a few pages. A smile formed on his thin lips as he clapped his hands together.

"You'll be happy to know," He said, turning to face them.

"The man who bought this particular phone registered it under the name of Victor Hale."

Morgan and JJ looked at each other in shock. Could it really be that simple? They both thought back to the endless hours of work Garcia did to find the model of the phones and the hidden convenience store located there in Fredonia. Maybe they had already tackled the hard part.

Morgan pulled out his phone and quickly typed the name into his Notes. "Do you have a picture of him?"

The owner shook his head. "Sorry, but the only thing we are required to ask for is the customer's name and Driver's license, which we do not scan."

"Thank you for your time," JJ replied as they shook the man's hand and left. Walking back towards the SUV, they smiled and took in the peaceful scenery around them.

"Looks like it's time to track down yet another suspect," Morgan stated as he suddenly dashed towards the driver's side.

Before JJ could react, he hopped into the car and locked the door. She scrunched up her face and hopped into the passenger's seat as he laughed.

"You better hope I don't _accidentally_ skip a red light," He winked and elbowed her playfully in the arm.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're such a jerk."

"I'll take that as a compliment," He replied as he turned the car onto the street and sped up, causing JJ to grab the handlebar. He smiled as she smirked in his direction. The next two hours were going to be one hell of an experience.

* * *

**Chapter 22! Yay!**

**So I've decided to start using the horizontal line dividers instead of an ellipses (...) to separate different parts of the story, so tell me what you think. I tried to use less dialogue during the last part of this chapter if you could tell a difference. I'm slowly getting there! :)  
**

**Yes, a new character was introduced finally. Who is he? You'll have to wait and see!**

**Love you guys so much, and if there's any that reads this story**** that's actually from Kansas, I hope I didn't offend you somehow...I live in Virginia, so I have absolutely no clue what its like over there, haha!**

**Thank you for reading, like always, you all are fantastic!**

**-Sammie**


	23. The Truth

**Hey there!**

**Before I start this chapter, I just wanted to say that I just made a CM fanpage on Instagram, so if you want to, you can go check it out! :D**

**( crimsonminds)**

**Now I present to you...*Imaginary drum roll*...Chapter 23!**

* * *

Morgan parked the car as JJ jumped out and jogged towards the police station. Turning the corner to the conference room, she swung the door open and turned on the computer. She logged into her Skype account and sent Garcia a video chat request.

"Do you have anything yet?" JJ asked when she saw Garcia's cheery face on the screen. Morgan had called her on their way back from Fredonia to give her the suspect's name.

She smiled brightly as she began to type.

"I sure do!"

Morgan entered the room and sat down.

"Victor Andrew Hale," Garcia said as she began reading the man's profile.

"He's 58 years old, doesn't have a wife or kids, and lives alone in the small town of Fredonia. Sounds pretty lonely if you ask me."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as she read the profile on her tablet. "What's this about his medical records?"

"Hmm..." Garcia mumbled to herself as she read through it.

"Apparently he's been hospitalized many times over the years for lung cancer."

"Jeez," Morgan sighed.

"Jeez is right, Sugar. It says here that he was diagnosed back when he was 38 years old and has been fighting ever since."

JJ couldn't help but feel a bit of sorrow for this man. He may be an evil person deep down, but having a disease that slowly and uncontrollably destroys your body day by day was something no one should ever have to experience.

"Guys..." Garcia trailed off as she searched.

"What?" Morgan and JJ replied at the same time.

"Hale was sentenced to 20 years of prison for a major felony. Apparently him and a few others tried to rob a bank in central Kansas. They held the people in the bank hostage for twelve hours until they decided to escape through the ventilation system. Police caught them as they tried to flee the scene. He was locked up when he was 25 and wasn't released until he was 45."

Morgan pressed his lips together.

"It looks like we've found our guy." JJ responded with a smirk.

"Thanks, Sweetness," Morgan smiled.

"Yeah yeah, now hurry up and find him. I miss my family way too much."

They Morgan and JJ smiled at each other as they turned off the video camera and ran out of the conference room to find the rest of the team.

* * *

"Where is he?" Hotch asked stoically as he slid the photo of Victor across the table.

Prescott stared at it for a few seconds before shoving it away. "I don't know who that is."

Hotch raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure about that?"

"Damn sure."

He watched as Hunter gently tapped his foot.

Hotch leaned over the table, staring Prescott straight in the eyes.

"I know you're lying, which is an incredibly stupid thing to do when you're talking to a profiler," He stated, leaning back in his seat.

"We already looked through your phone records. That's how we found the mystery numbers and were able to track them down. Tell us where he is and what you know and we can make a deal. But remember, false information and the deal is off."

Prescott focused on the table as he thought it over. If he told the truth, they could arrest Hale, no longer making him a threat to himself or his loved ones. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the chains around his wrists.

"His name's Victor Hale," He confessed in a hushed voice.

Hotch crossed his hands in front of him and leaned forward. "We already know who he is. We need to know about your connection to him and where he is."

"Victor and I were friends a long time ago. We used to work together when we were both professors at the University of Las Vegas in Nevada. When he quit a few years later, we never saw each other again until recently. He called me around 2:30am one morning and told me it was him. When I asked him how he got my number, he didn't answer my question. All he told me was that he had a job for me, and that if I refused to accept it, he would threaten my wife and daughter. He told me that if I called the police he would know."

Prescott was silent for a moment.

"What happened after that?" Hotch asked curiously.

"He told me where to meet him and we talked. He said that he was a 'Somewhat decent man' and that he would pay me for my work."

He took a deep breath and blew it out.

"My job was to kill my former colleagues from the University. He said that I was on the list, so if I didn't do what I was told, he wouldn't have a problem finishing me off. I asked him why he wanted me, in particular, to do the job for him and he said it was because I was an old friend and since I used to work with the others on a daily basis, no one would think I did it."

Hotch was glad that Prescott finally cooperated, but there was something that didn't make sense in his statements.

"If he wanted all those people dead, why didn't he just do it himself? He sounds smart enough to get away without leaving a trace. Why'd he jeopardize the outcome of his plan by hiring you?"

He put his hand to his chest as he began to explain.

"Victor Hale has lung cancer, which you probably know already. That being said, he can't do any strenuous exercise without risking his health. He has to carry around an oxygen tank with him wherever he goes. He's in pretty bad shape. He said that he was saving all his energy for the right moment, and that killing all those professors would take too much effort for his body to handle."

Hotch's body stiffened slightly as he listened. "He told you that he was saving his energy for the right moment?" He questioned.

"Yes."

"Prescott, who was still left on your list before you were arrested?"

He thought back to the list he had been forced to carry around with him.

"Jeffrey Dallas and Diana Reid, that's all." He replied, noticing the changing expression on the agent's face.

Hotch quickly got up from his chair and walked out the door. As he entered the small room behind the glass, his team stared at him with worried faces.

"Wheels up in 30, we're going to Vegas."

* * *

**I'm so happy that I'm finally getting to the action part of this story! **

**I jammed (or sprained) my finger playing basketball today, which is forcing me to type a bit awkwardly, so sorry if there's a typo somewhere!**

**13k reads on this story, yay!**

**Thank you, as usual, for reading! If you have any ideas for what kind of story I should write in the future, PM me anytime :)**

**See ya later!**

**-Sammie**


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